Stormbreaker: Origins
by DoctorPortal
Summary: Here are the origin stories of each member of the Stormbreaker crew, with an important prelude by the series' creator.
1. A Prelude to Origins

**Stormbreaker: Origins**

 **Prelude:**

 _To my beloved readers,_

To most of you, the brave crew of the starship _Stormbreaker_ are mostly a mystery. Not much has been thoroughly explained about all of the many characters you meet and follow throughout the course of _The Stormbreaker Chronicles._ Most of them are sort of a mystery. But I am here right now to say that that will no longer be the case.

As it happens, the Stormbreaker Crew's true origins come from many years ago. As long ago as my 4th grade year, I lived in a large house which sat in the middle of a cul-de-sac. And every single afternoon after school, I would have over someone who, at the time, was my best friend. A kid by the name of Danny. I'm going to spare last names, but if he does ever read this, he'll know who he is. Using a series of toy lightsabers I always kept upstairs in my room, Danny and I would venture out to my front yard. Together, Danny and I went on all sorts of adventures, most notably our Star Wars series. It followed the journey of Noah and Danny Skywalker (my first name is Noah, and we were 8 years old, so name originality wasn't high), on their daring adventures across the galaxy fighting the Empire and saving the galaxy.

Well, these daily hangouts continued until the summer after 7th grade. Up until then, Danny had started hanging around another crowd, one whose influence wasn't exactly kind in nature. And one day, halfway between 7th and 8th grade, Danny stopped calling.

And to this day, he refuses to so much as look me in the eye.

So you know what I did? I rewrote all of our Star Wars adventures, and killed his character off in chapter two! Think of it as an enormous, figurative middle-finger to that asshole I'm better off without.

But, before Danny ditched me, I had made a new friend: a girl by the name of Hannah. Now, she was a unique case. Unlike me, she had a more "traditional" upbringing. her parents were very religious, as well as strict, and couple that with a socially-impaired stepfather and a severe case of introvertedness, and she was a walking anxiety machine. Meanwhile, I was this happy-go-lucky goofball-ass kid, with an enormously-extrovertive and hyperactive personality, and very fun and progressive parents and a happy childhood.

We became friends almost instantly.

And that's where the rest of Stormbreaker began to grow. Over time, Hannah developed herself online, taking the name "Fornara" on several sites. Many years after she developed this name, a character in her likeness would be developed using a variant of that name. Turn Hannah's personality on its head, and boom! Nara Mukure was born.

Now, the rest of the crew's a bit different. Kaz, D'razz, A'laan, and Nova are the only other characters who are based off of actual people (Winson and Rei are true OCs). But let's start with the others.

At the start of my junior year in high school, I met a group of really awesome people in the marching band: two guys named Jacob and Austin. Austin's this really salty, drop-dead hilarious guy who loves techno music above all other genres, and isn't afraid to drone out things with Monstercat.

Jacob is a lot like me, in some ways. Loud, outgoing, and brash are three words I'd use for him. He and Austin had been friends for some time, and I made friends with both of them rather quickly.

Meanwhile, on days when I didn't have after-school marching rehearsal, I began to befriend one of the most interesting characters I've ever had the pleasure of meeting: Ethan.

In a lot of ways, Ethan is kind of a paradox. With the way he dresses, you'd assume he's a total hipster douchebag; bright red hoodie, big, thick-rimmed glasses, a gray beanie cap, and skinny jeans are his usual attire. But when you meet him, he's one of the most naturally-kind and charitable people I've ever met. It's almost scary, in fact. I suspect that guy's a secret mastermind planning great things. But I digress.

It was about the start of the second semester of junior year that I first remembered old Noah Skywalker. I figured, "You know what? I oughtta write a book about this guy." So, I changed the name to Nova Xaris, and went on from there. The planning for Stormbreaker took way longer than I'd ever anticipated. And as time went on, I began to reach out to my friends, asking each of them if they wanted a piece of the action. All responded positively, and the rest of the Stormbreaker Crew were created soon after. D'razz was based off of Ethan, Nara off of Hannah, A'laan off of Austin, and Kaz off of Jacob. And then the characters did something extraordinary:

They transcended the bonds of who they'd been based off of and became their own people.

Now, the purpose for all this Origin story ridiculousness is because the following chapters of this story are each the backstories of each of these characters, _written_ by the person whom they're based off of. I will include in the posted versions of each the author's first name and last initial.

And to kick things off, we have Part I of the Story of D'razz, as written by Ethan.


	2. The Story of D'razz, Part I

Until the End

D'razz's Backstory

The heat bore down on the planet as darkness bears down in the night. The dirt lay flat and baked in the harsh sunlight. The only sounds that passed through were the wind, the people at the market stalls, and fists meeting my body wherever they could land. I cowered in an alleyway as three bullies, red Dathomirians in contrast to my yellow skin, each at least a head taller than me, beat on me mercilessly against my tears and pleads. I tried my hardest to maintain eye contact with the one in the center, who was particularly strong.

"Please, stop! What do you want?" I asked repeatedly, hoping that the repetition would break through their hostile intent. Contrary to what I believed, each time I asked it only made them hit me harder. The moment I let out a weak wail, I heard a familiar voice that broke the consistency of their attack.

"Hey! Piss off, you two-bit brats!"

The three turned for a moment before fleeing deeper into the alley, leaving me in pain. The source of the voice came over to me and crouched to make eye contact.

"You okay, nice guy?" she asked in her harsh, yet caring tone. I nodded, still being too shaken to speak. She gripped the collar of my tunic and lifted me to my feet, then giving me a push as to walk. In my state, I managed out one short sentence.

"Thank you… Co'ronn.

Co'ronn was my older sister by ten years. She was much stronger and braver than me, strong and brave enough to join a thing called a "resistance" against a group of people on Dathomir called the "Night Sisters". She explained it to me that they were really bad people that needed to be stopped. I always looked up to her, even though she always seemed to be annoyed by me. I didn't like to be annoying, but I couldn't bring myself to leave her alone. I wanted to be just like her when I was seventeen. We walked the whole distance to our farm far away from the village. When we arrived home, mother was resting and grandmother was cooking our supper at the cooking pot. The scent of the herbs she used filled the small house and brought a smile to my face. I looked at my sister with excitement of the meal, which she responded to with a smirk. She sat down at the old table, placing her crooked sword and sheath on the edge of the table with one hand as she pushed her other through her uncommonly short hair. I walked across our creaking floor to grandmother so I could watch her cook. It was always fascinating to watch, as grandmother did it in such an intriguing way. Sometimes she would throw ingredients directly into the pot, other times she would cut them or grind them into fine powder before including them. Every time she would do it, she did it differently, and it tasted wonderful every time. Her food created happy memories.

Night came and supper was ready. Co'ronn was in the same seat she had taken when we had gotten home, I sat to her right, mother sat across from her and grandmother sat across from me once she had dished the meal into each of our bowls. Mother and grandmother each delicately sipped from their bowls while Co'ronn chugged hers, making a small mess around her spot. Mother shot her a glare, which was promptly returned. Anxiety built inside of me at the sight of this. I couldn't stand conflict, especially between two people that I care about so. I opened my mouth to say something, but my grandmother gently flexed her finger as to stop me. I followed her instruction.

"I understand that you're not very lady-like, Co'ronn…" my mother began in a placid tone. "But you could at least pretend for the sake of your brother's anniversary of life." She finished, shifting her peculiar gaze towards me. I smiled at the mention of the day. Today I was officially seven in age, only ten years away from being as old as Co'ronn. My sister let out an audible sigh, then mockingly finishing her meal by sipping so gingerly that it would put the feeblest Dathomirian to shame.

The table fell silent for a few moments before grandmother stood.

"Let us begin The Giving, shall we?" She said, a wide smile forming on her face. She went into the back room, returning with a crate painted the yellow shade of my skin. Grandmother did this on my last anniversary as well. She explained to me that this was done to honor the heritage I received from my father, who passed when I was only an infant. I respected the care that grandmother took in the paintwork. Next my mother grabbed a crate from the back room that was painted a shade of red, while my sister remained lazily in her seat. I opened grandmother's first to find a beautifully crafted wooden doll, carved in the image of a Dathomirian soldier. The doll's tattoos were carved in as mine appear.

"Thank you, grandmother! I appreciate your gift!" I said with a giddiness in my voice that caused her to smile in return.

"Your happiness brings me the same feeling, young one." She said through closed eyes. "I'm positive that you will grow to be just as charming as that doll." I blushed at the remark, and placed it carefully on the table as I opened my gift from mother. Inside the crate was a beautifully sewn long-sleeved tunic. It was a vibrant shade of while that felt as though it made the entire room glow.

"Thank you, mother. This is wonderful." I uttered out in awe, unable to break my gaze from the piece of clothing. As I moved the crate to a place where it wouldn't dirty, I heard mother scolding Co'ronn.

"How disgraceful you appear, not getting a gift for your younger's seventh." Her tone bore a bitter tone that brought instant discomfort to my chest. I walked into the main room in hopes that they would stop in my presence.

"On the contrary," Co'ronn began as I entered the room. "My present to D'razz is in the barn. I acquired it specially, _**mother**_." She finished abrasively. She walked to me, taking my hand and guiding me past our frustrated mother and through the front entryway. She hopped over the wooden fence to let me through, but quickly shutting it as one of our Verne rammed into the gate attempting to run free. Co'ronn laughed and pet the Verne as it struggled to extract its nasal horns from the thick wood.

"Better luck next time, Damaya." She said through her sadistic yet compassionate laughter. She took my hand once more and walked me inside the barn, which was dimly lit by a few torches situated upon the supporting beams holding the structure in place. In the center, there was a crate that looked far different from mothers or grandmothers. Her crate looked as though it was encased in a sort of leather, and bore an odd shape against the square ones previously provided. Once we reached the center, I lowered to my knees in front of it, staring in anticipation as Co'ronn towered over me with her arms crossed across her chest.

"What are you waiting for, morning?" She asked, now with a smile she was trying to fight. "Open it!"

I unlatched the rusted clasps holding the box closed and lifted the lid. Inside was something that looked absolutely spectacular, which filled me with a perfect blend of amazement and confusion. There was a piece of some sort of wood, equipped with an elastic string, tightly strung across two arms near the front. Further down, there was a slot that looked as though it could fit a thin piece of material in and a small latch at the end of it. The rest of the thing appeared to be a wonderfully crafted handle. I tried to lift it from the box, only to feel how heavy it was, nearly dropping it. She caught it with me, and lifted the weight from my arms.

"What is it? It's so odd." I asked lightly, not to offend her.

"It's called a bow, D'razz." She responded bluntly. "A crossbow, to be exact." She held her finger up and pulled a small, sharp object from the box. She placed it in her mouth while she pulled the string to the latch, securing it. She then placed the object in the slot, right against the latch. She aimed it at one of the beams, pulling a trigger at the bottom of the handle, launching the object directly underneath one of the torches, piercing the beam. My eyes widened in its ability. She retrieved the sharp object with a chuckle and held the things out to me.

"It's your turn to try. It is your gift at the end of the moon." She said assertively. I took a step to take them, but before I could reach her, our mothers voice emitted from outside the barn.

"Co'ronn! D'razz! Why have you two not returned to the house?" She asked in a tone that proved the question not to be rhetorical. My sister flinched and threw the crossbow and object into a pile of hay, burying it as mother entered. She marched it towards my sister, still awaiting an answer to her question. After a moment of tense silence, mother spoke.

"You said your brother's gift was in the barn, Co'ronn." She said coldly. "Let me see it."

"I swear I left it in here. Someone must have come in and stole it." She said, shrugging at mother. This brought an instantaneous displeasure to her, as her fists clenched at the gesture.

"D'razz." She said in the same cold tone, not turning to look at me. "Go and rest. I will talk with your sister."

I looked to my sister for instruction. She nodded at me as a signal to do as mother said. I walked backwards for a short time in fear of the conflict, then leaving the barn at a quick pace. I loved both mother and Co'ronn, caring for both of their happiness. I couldn't stand to see them fighting, nor could I stand to see the results of the fights. They all start without happiness, and end with one of them remaining unhappy. My mind then set itself on confusion in why my sister had lied to mother. She had gotten me a gift. I wanted to know why she did what she did. I went back to the house, grabbed my doll, and began to my room. My grandmother must have sensed my fear. She took me gently by the shoulder to get my attention and sat me down.

"The room grew cold as you entered, young one." She began quietly. I stared at the floor, afraid to say anything in response. I wanted grandmother to know, but I couldn't allow that as long as I wanted to protect mother and Co'ronn. She stared at me for a few moments longer before continuing.

"D'razz. I've known both your mother and your sister for some time now." She continued, as if knowing what was on my mind. "They are Dathomirians. Dathomirians and the very planet they live on host conflict. Despite what I know you feel in your heart, you cannot stop them from being the people this world has formed them to be." I nodded in response, holding the wooden doll tightly to my chest. She looked at me with saddened eyes, and reached her hand to my shoulder again.

"But by no means do I intend to tell you to stop being the person that you have made yourself." I looked up in confusion, awaiting her to elaborate. She said nothing more and stood from her seat at the table, moving over to the aging rocking chair in the far corner of the main room. I left grandmother be for the night and went to rest. I had questions, and only my family bore the answers.

Once morning came, the sun was already emitting the intense heat we've grown accustom to. I wore mother's gift to me and carried grandmother's doll for protection. Co'ronn walked with me to the market, giving me the perfect opportunity to ask her about the night before.

"Co'ronn?" I called, tugging at her hip guard. She looked down at me in response, ready to hear what I was to say. "Why did you lie to mother? You got me a gift for my anniversary."

She sighed and rolled her eyes to the back of her head. "Listen, D'razz." She started, frustrated at the mention of mother. "It's hard to fully explain right now. Nui'Ya is too strict, period. She doesn't even like me carrying around **this**." She finished, drawing her sword from its sheath, showing it to me. The sun reflected off of the tempered metal directly into my eyes, causing me to look upon the blade with a squint. She finished, drawing her sword from its sheath, showing it to me. The sun reflected off of the tempered metal directly into my eyes, causing me to look upon the blade with a squint. She put it away quickly with a grunt. My mind fixed itself on what Co'ronn calls mother; Nui'Ya. She explained to me in the past that Nui'Ya is mother name, as hers is Co'ronn and mine D'razz. It made me uncomfortable, being that I was taught to refer to my elders appropriately, but my respect for Co'ronn maintained through her disobedience. Once we reached the market, she handed me the sack of goods she brought for selling and went to find her resistance while I went to make as much money as possible for home. Before getting too far, I was blocked by the strong one and his friends.

"Nice clothes, weakling." He said in a rough voice. "And I thought that you couldn't look even **more** pathetic." He pushed me to the ground, dirtying mother's gift. I held my hands out, explaining to them that it was a gift and I didn't want it ruined.

"You don't want it 'ruined', huh? Well, we can fix that." One of the strong one's friends said, closing in on me. I panicked, unable to move. He tore the white tunic from over my head, causing me to drop the bag of goods my sister had given me, and ran off with it into the busy market, followed by his two friends. I stood there, my scrawny torso revealed and my mind racing on how to get it back. I gathered my things, took a deep breath, and went through the alleyway in hopes that I could find them quicker than searching through the crowd.

The alleys were dark and bore a scent that made my nostrils burn. I went through every exit back into the market for fresh air and the hope that I would see my tunic, but every time seemed to result in failure and reentry into the alley. After four times, I was growing weary and saddened that I lost mother's present so quickly. As I turned back into the alley for one more attempt, I saw them. The three boys with my tunic. The strong one had tied its sleeves around his neck to make it look like a cape. I called out to them, only for them to run. I chased after them, gaining on them several times, but tripping over my own feet only to lose them. This cycle continued until we reached a large sand hill on the outskirts of the market, where they had built a system of debris to ascend and descend the hill without falling. The strong one climbed to the top and sat on a large, flat piece of wood while the other two stayed to the bottom, grabbing large sticks as weapons. I panicked, throwing the goods bag out of harm's way and sprinting past the two before they could approach me. I began climbing their debris staircase, only to miss and fall onto a pile of garbage. The three laughed at my failure as I gathered myself. I looked to see that I had landed on a thick, yet small, stick with two prongs at one end with a piece of elastic string tied around both. Memories flashed of Co'ronn's gift and her demonstration of its ability. I grabbed it and some small pieces of junk and ran to the far side of the hill, out of the way of the boys. After a few whispers between the two boys, one with heavy looking boots stepped forward.

"What do you think you're going to do with a stupid little slingshot, weakling?" He called out in a cocky inflection.

"Slingshot…" I thought to myself. I prepared the slingshot as Co'ronn had prepared the crossbow and I aimed it shakily. The boy laughed as he charged at me, his stick in both hands for an overhead strike. I clenched my eyes shut and released the elastic, firing the first small junk piece. I opened one eye to see it had hit his hand, causing him to drop the stick and hold it in pain. I called out my apology, only to be spat at in return. I prepared another shot as he picked up his stick, and by the time he was ready, I had fired another one, hitting his forehead and breaking his balance. Before he fell, he bore his boots down into the sand, securing his position on the ground. I ran around him as he gathered himself, only to be stopped by the other, whose head spikes bore a gradient, getting larger the further back on his head you looked. I backed up, searching frantically for another junk piece. In my search, he swung, missing, but hitting the side of my face on his way back. I dropped the slingshot and junk on the ground, gripping where he had struck me. He laughed triumphantly and prepared for one last hit. I flinched in fear, but his attack was stopped.

"What do you think **you're** about to do?" The strong one called from his pseudo-throne. The two others looked up to him in confusion. "I'm about to give him what-for! What's it to you?" the horned one responded, clearly aggravated. "To **me** , it's that **I'm** the leader, and **I** get the last hit!" The horned one threw his stick on the ground and backed off. I searched for the slingshot while the strong one came down from the hill. As he reached the bottom, I began shuffling myself in the direction of where it had landed. The strong one cracked his knuckles as he approached me, puffing his chest out to seem tougher. I grabbed the slingshot and a small piece of junk as he cocked his arm back for a powerful punch. I pulled the piece back in the elastic, aimed quickly and fired, unknowing of where it would hit. The piece launched into his mouth, catching itself in his throat. He stumbled back from the impact and began trying to cough up the junk. Before the others could react, I ran behind the strong one and pulled my tunic from around his neck. While the three were busy, I grabbed my bag and fled in a full sprint, fueled primarily by fear of what they'll do to me once they've recovered. As I made my way to the alley's exit, I felt a mix of confidence and shame come over me from what had happened. I thought they were gone, until a figure grabbed me by the shoulders, eliciting a noise of fear from me. I was in a frenzy, until I heard the voice it belonged to.

"Hey, hey, calm down, alright?"

It was Co'ronn. I spun around and hugged her in relief. Once I let go, she placed her hands to her hips and looked at me with a smile.

"I guess I got you the right toy back home, huh?" She said, a smirk forming on her face. I looked at her with wide eyes, coming to a realization.

"You… you were watching?" I asked, my voice trembling from the experience. She gave off a rugged giggle and patted my arm. "You think I'd just ditch you out here after the runs you've had?" she responded in a candid tone. She paused for a moment and looked at my face, which I could only assume at my wound specifically.

"Man, that clot gave you a nice one." She said, rubbing over the mark with her thumb. The horned boy had hit me right where a Stegma's family tattoo was placed. The three pronged marking on each of my cheeks, as well as my late father, his father before him, and my sister. When she moved her hand away from me, her thumb was practically coated in blood. The wound stung now, like several needles were pricking it simultaneously. I held my hand to it, flinching at contact. Co'ronn shook her head.

"I've seen worse." She said, standing fully to stretch her back. "It'll heal over just fine. Put your shirt back on and let's get selling." She finished as she grabbed the bag, handing me my wooden doll from it. We walked around the market, stall to stall, selling everything from the bag to make as much money as possible. We sold through half of the bag before we were interrupted by two boys, each wearing crudely assembled armor, much like my sister. They both were panting, bearing weapons in their hands. They repeated the same phrase three times collectively; Once from one and twice from the other.

" _A witch's hag flees!"_

My sister nodded, drew her sword and directed the two to continue their pursuit while she went around to cut them off. I was scared by the panic they were stirring in the area. They ran through the crowd as my sister bolted into the nearest alleyway. Not knowing what to do, I followed my sister. She was so fast; I could barely keep up with her. Three alley entrances down, Co'ronn made a sharp left turn back into the market. I trailed behind her to the sound of people yelling and wood crashing. I peered over the edge to see a woman fleeing from the two men we saw earlier, knocking over market stalls to delay them. My sister sped towards her, sword in hand. I was paralyzed by the situation. I couldn't think of moving. I almost felt as though I wasn't even there. Only in essence, watching this all unfold. The running woman turned her head forward, only to see my sister too late. Co'ronn pierced her sword through the woman's chest, stopping her in her tracks. The two men climbed through the people, stopping to catch their breath as they reached her. One of them pulled the woman off of Co'ronn's sword and dropped her to the ground. I was in shock at this point. I understood violence, but I had never seen an object of violence go through another person. The woman trembled on the ground, on her elbows and knees in a forming pool of her blood.

"Fastest one we've hunted down yet, huh?" One of the men said, laughing off his exhaustion. Co'ronn and the other man laughed with him. She looked down at the woman, leaning her sword on her shoulder.

"One less sympathizer we have to worry about." She confidently said, turning to walk away from the scene that had been created. Before she took a single step, she saw me peering from the corner. I felt cold, trembling much like the woman. Co'ronn marched over to me, took me by the back of my head, and walked us away from it. I peered behind us to see the two men dragging the body away by its arms, but I only saw a couple dreadful seconds before she forced my head forward again.

We walked in silence for a while, with a few occasional awkward conversation starters which all inevitably came back to silence. Eventually, Co'ronn sighed and looked down at me as she walked.

"I guess… Now's a better time than ever to explain to you a few… things, huh?" She said, her discomfort astonishingly obvious. I nodded in agreement, but as well as in fear. I wanted the truth, but if that woman's fate was the truth; I was terrified. She pulled us off course to a nearby set of rocks to sit on. As the sun set, Co'ronn made a makeshift torch out of nearby nature and scrap that we didn't sell, fixing it into the ground for light.

"Alright…" She began, slapping her hands down onto her knees. "Ask away."

So many questions flooded my mind, but the most recent rung the loudest. "Why did you have to hurt that woman?" I murmured.

"I've told you before that I'm in a resistance against the Night Sisters." She started. "Our job is to save this rock from them and what they'll do… by any means necessary." She looked at me with a fire behind her eyes. "And people who are willing to help them, too. That's where that woman came in." I nodded, despite that not answering my question directly. I didn't want to argue with her out of respect, but I insisted.

"But… you could've talked to her, couldn't you?" I asked a little stronger.

"I'm sorry, D'razz. The real world doesn't always work like that. You should know." She said, pointing at my scar at the end of her sentence. I wanted to leave the topic be, but my curiosity had built so much that the tension tore at my heart.

"Do you have to hurt people like that a lot?" I asked, falling back into a murmur. She sighed at the question, running her hand through her hair.

"I'd rather… I'd rather spare someone like you of those details. For now, at least…" She murmured back, unable to maintain eye contact with me. "I'll answer that when I feel like you can actually take it." She finished, trying to balance out her harshness with a sisterly-type of compassion. "Next."

I struggled to ask the final question, being that I didn't want to make Co'ronn angry, but I needed to relieve myself of these awful anxieties that beat at my body.

"Why did you lie to mother last night?" She grunted at the question being brought back to her attention.

"D'razz, I told you this morning." She said, no longer covering her harshness. "Nui'Ya is strict, she wouldn't… wouldn't… she…" She struggled to find the end of her sentence. I could tell, just by the way she was acting, that there was more to her answer. I allowed my silence to speak for my words. Co'ronn paused, caught her breath, and began differently.

"I lied because I'm tired…" She started in a quiet voice. "I'm tired of watching you getting your arse handed to you… I'm tired of watching you have to just smile off the world breaking your jaw…" She walked over and kneeled down in front of me, her voice growing in intensity. "I lied because I want you to learn to protect yourself in a way that won't be tethered to Nui'Ya… That won't be tethered to the Stegma name… A way that'll let you protect **yourself** , D'razz." She continued, her voice shaking in places and a light blush underneath her Stegma markings. "Earlier today, I said I got you the right toy… Yeah?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

"I said that because things like that dumb little slingshot, and… and the crossbow… are just pieces of wood that embody how you protect yourself. You distance yourself from conflict… You're quick… quiet… patient…" She paused, gathering herself. "Who you are is everything a marksman should be." She said, stopping for another moment. She rubbed her thumb against my scar again, this time feeling the dried over blood that had formed to heal the wound. With small tears in her eyes, she stood, wiping them away in embarrassment.

"I lied because you're what I care about most." She finished.


End file.
